Obsession
by MooksMookin
Summary: It was the scars that had attracted him at first.


**A/N: A bunch of midnight ramblings made into an eventual three-shot. I know basically where I'm going to go with this. It's the matter of writing it out that's a pain. Don't you hate it when you go to write and it's suddenly like "lmao what is english haha" like come on brain don't do this to me.  
**

 **I haven't read over the majority of this since I wrote it at 2 in the morning weeks ago, so apologies for any mistakes.**

* * *

It was the scars that had attracted him at first. Everyone had scars in one way or another. Mentally, physically; not a single human being was left unscathed from the claws of society or the outdoors. However, the scars that were on _him_ were somehow different. Five circular marks on _his_ chest, lifted in a crescent smile. He had accidentally walked in on the boy when he was changing out of his gym clothes. The boy's pale cheeks had flushed a brilliant red before he hurriedly put his gym shirt back on. Mariku hadn't commented on it (and why would he, when he hadn't even cared at the time?) and grabbed whatever it was he had accidentally left. The boy waited until Mariku left before he presumably went back to changing.

The obsession started from there. It was fairly easy to learn the boy's name, Ryou Bakura; all he had to do was look at the class roster. From there, he started _observing_ the timid boy, picking up his habits and speaking patterns (and sometimes, if Mariku was lucky enough, even a bit of information about the boy) from watching him. He'd learned that Ryou was usually alone, if he wasn't with one of the four people that dubbed him a friend. Ryou barely even spoke with them, and most of the time just stood to the side as the others did whatever idiotic thing they were doing. When Ryou was nervous, or shy, or whatever, he had a habit of tugging on his bangs. He was overly polite when he spoke to teachers and other classmates.

Mariku learned that Ryou lived alone. His father was an archaeologist and owned the local museum. Mariku hazily remembered making the connection that Ryou's father must have been his older sister's boss. He learned that Ryou liked table top RPGs - Mariku went through the effort of looking up what exactly that was - and, surprisingly enough, held an affinity for the occult.

During one of his eavesdropping sessions, Mariku had overheard Ryou's address. He immediately wrote it down, noting in the back of his mind that maybe he was starting to go a bit too far. Unsurprisingly, he couldn't bring himself to care.

On more than one occasion, Mariku found himself wandering in front of the apartment complex Ryou lived in. He knew the apartment he lived in - room number 601 - and was able to locate the apartment's window fairly easily. Since it was so high up, he wasn't able to see inside it, but that hardly mattered to him. It was something about Ryou, and therefore it interested him.

But it wasn't enough. He needed to know more.

Mariku started to search the web for information on his obsession, only to come up momentarily empty handed. Still, that didn't dissuade him in the least. He was persistent to a fault when it came to something that held his interests. He continued his cyber search for information on Ryou day after day. His obsession was growing to unhealthy lengths and bounds, and a part of him knew he needed to stop before it got too far. But after weeks of searching, Mariku finally found what he had been looking for.

A blog. He didn't bother to remember exactly how he found it, or how it had instantly clicked and he had _known_ this was Ryou. All that mattered was that he had finally found _something._

Mariku had started from the beginning of his blog, wanting to know everything about the boy. It seemed Ryou had started it up recently, and there wasn't too much to comb through. It was a bit disappointing to Mariku, since that meant there wasn't much information about Ryou readily available. The blog was all mostly about his fascination with the occult, a thing that he and Mariku shared.

Mariku began to feel a sort of connection with Ryou, though it might have just been Mariku's stalking and obsession with him. He learned more and more about the boy as he kept up with blog. Days went by, and with each new post Mariku felt a trill of sickening excitement burning within his chest. For a while, it was enough so satiate his Ryou-obsession.

Then, Mariku noticed the _Message_ button.

It was tempting. It was so tempting it physically hurt. He recognized that once he sent this boy a message, he would no longer be able to go back. It wouldn't be enough to just sit back and read.

How did something that started so small get to something this big? It was a problem - a huge, walloping heart attack of a problem, and yet...

Mariku couldn't bring himself to care.

He sent the boy a message, a quick comment on how interesting his blog seemed and how he, himself, was interested in the occult as well. His heart pounded as he typed the small anonymous message, butterflies suddenly being set free to roam about in his stomach. It was exhilarating.

The reply was nearly instant and overwhelmingly positive. The words seemed to beam off the page as Mariku read them, and he could almost picture Ryou rambling excitedly to him about various things on the occult. It nearly brought a smile to his face, how _cute_ it was. And in his next message, he told Ryou exactly that. The response this time was quick and seemingly flustered.

Cute. Overwhelmingly cute. Disgustingly cute. So cute it almost made Mariku nauseous. It was as if the butterflies in his stomach wanted to escape into the chilly, winter air.

The next few days passed just like that - Mariku sending a few messages and Ryou replying enthusiastically. Mariku eventually created an account for the sole purpose of messaging more privately with Ryou. Over time, Mariku learned more and more about Ryou. He learned that Ryou's favorite food was creampuffs. His favorite animal was a rabbit.

The scars were only the starting point of Mariku's interest in Ryou. Now, he wanted to peel Ryou back layer by layer. He wanted to know everything about him.

Ryou went into great detail about his favorite horror movies and series, rambling on and on in that sickeningly cute way of his. He told Mariku how his mother and sister died in a car accident when he was young, and ever since then he'd been fascinated with the occult. He said that that was the reason his father threw himself into his work, and why he was living alone in an apartment complex. He said how he never truly felt like he belonged with his friends, and how they'd always acted like he was never there.

Not once did he mention his scars.

For a while, this messaging back and forth was enough. Mariku stopped observing Ryou as often at school, and completely stopped his impromptu visits to his apartment complex. But, like every time before, there came a craving for more.

It was a need. A physical ache that infested itself deep inside his chest. Mariku _needed_ Ryou more than anything. He wanted to actually talk to Ryou, to hear that soft voice be directed at him. He wanted those doe eyes to look at only him. He wanted to feel that pale skin that looked soft and malleable. Ryou looked so tiny and breakable, just like his favorite animal.

It truly was an addiction. Every hour, every minute, his mind focused solely on Ryou, Ryou, _Ryou._ He hadn't even _talked_ to the boy face-to-face, and yet he was already in this deep. It was a wonder how he was even functioning at this point. At some point the need became too much to bare.

So, he started to plan.

* * *

 **A/N: God, I hate posting things with only 1k words. It makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I'll try to make the next one longer.**


End file.
